Samson and Delilah
by BetaReject
Summary: Forbidden fruit always did taste better after the hunt. But can their insatiable lust for one another save them from themselves? *NOT PADMEKIN*. Rated T for dark themes war/violence .


**Author's Notes:** This tale was inspired by Pink Floyd's song One Slip. As I'm sure some of you will notice throughout the tale there is a couple lines that are from the song. As such I lay no claim to them as they are part of the lyrics and belong to their rightful owners.

* * *

The Naboo senator came into his life like a storm. Fiery and unapologetic, she stole his desires without ever trying. Her smile was innocent, her eyes, so cold yet inviting, said something else entirely.

As a jedi there was little luxury, Anakin could afford. As their prophesized _chosen one_ there was little he was denied. They exchanged few words between them as the masks they wore only revealed lies.

They expressed their thoughts in other ways.

"We will speak further in the near future," she said with a sigh, as she tossed her mane and departed into the hall. The games of lust was not new for Anakin, a life of slavery had taught him much. As his eyes drifted to the sway of her hips he knew he had met his _master. _

"Guard her with your life," Palpatine whispered into one ear. "Be careful she is not yours to have," his mentor warned in the other.

Her watchful gaze warned the jedi padawan that she was forbidden fruit. His fingers so lightly brushing against her shoulder told Amidala that he did not care. Anakin's power drew her to him while the heady rush of desire brought the young man to Amidala's feet.

Not even, they were fully aware of the games they played or the secrets they shared.

"Come with me," she purred as delicate, powerful hands slipped into his own, guiding him to the fields behind her lake house. The Naboo sun so warm and inviting could not ease the shiver of excitement that ran down his spine. The grass always was greener where one must not travel.

A dance of words, a clash of views and she was in his arms with amber eyes filled with danger and all that he could possibly desire.

"I want to taste your lips," he whispered in her ears as the Naboo sunset ahead of them.

"I want to taste your fears," she murmured in reply as icy fingers slipped out of fiery arms. With a sway of her hips and the lingering soft scent of exotic perfumes Amidala disappeared inside the sanctuary of the lake house.

Forbidden fruit always did taste better after a good hunt.

The war began just as Anakin's childhood ended. Tatooine never gave back what it stole and Anakin was no different. Vengeance was heavy, filled with blind rage and the heady taste of power; the bodies of the tuskan raiders at his feet were a silent reminder that even their deaths could not bring his mother back.

As a boy, he knew humiliation, love and anger. As a man, he knew fear, bloodlust and hate. He learned to forget many things he should never have, yet he never forgot the forbidden fruit that was always within his grasp, but out of reach. The beautiful senator with the unseeing mask never forgot him either, and so their game continued.

Words exchanged became unspoken challenges while the language of their bodies spoke of heady temptations that Anakin knew he should not embrace. Lust never left him feeling more alive than it did with her, it never satisfied.

As the war unravelled, so did his self-control. What Anakin could not save, he destroyed and the people of the republic loved him for it. Long trails of the destruction left in his wake were but silent reminders of his rising star.

Bloodlust ate his mind, while her beauty ate at his heart. The storm of death, passion and power took its toll leaving Anakin unaware of what was real and was dream. On the battlefield, he was the dark god of vengeance unleashing his rage against those who dared to oppose him. Off the frontlines, he was but a broken man crawling on his hands and knees begging for another taste of her lips, and the forbidden fruit she had given him during those fateful days on Tatooine. The slave who once believed he had become the master learned that he would always be another's slave.

"Be my wife," he whispered breathlessly between stolen hungry kisses, as her golden laughter filled the marbled halls.

"I will, I will," she said with a resigned sigh before drawing him to her bed. Humiliation was always easier to swallow when drunk on the wine of her kisses.

As the war ensued, ideals of black and white became many shades of grey. Decisions made and lines crossed blurred the lines that were the paths of light and dark for the young knight.

With the blood of so many lives on his hands and no end in sight, Anakin knew there would be no turning back. The time had finally come to make his stand. What the light offered he no longer desired and so he parted ways with it. Deluded with false promises, drunk with power and desperate to claim the forbidden senator as his own, Anakin made his final choice as a jedi.

With the memory of the many innocent lives lost to her lover's hands weighing on her mind Padmé knew the time had come to make her own stand. Bound by duty and a destiny she had not foreseen Padmé released herself from her dark desires and made her first choice as a noble woman.

"Come away with me," he purred as hands soaked with the blood of innocents caressed her pale cheeks.

"If only I could walk away," she replied as a cool fingers slipped around his throat. The sky rumbled its warning but Anakin did not listen, as he tasted the fire of her lips.

The storm of his passion was short lived as white-hot pain suddenly tore through his chest. Blue eyes snapped open, wide with shock and disbelief as amber orbs held his gaze. A tilt of her head, a hint of sadness in her eyes and the bloodied blade found its mark a second time.

There was no denying the truth, not anymore. The promise she made had been nothing more than a betrayal.

Her lips gently tasted his mouth, stealing away the fear he once felt. With the twist of her wrist the blade withdrew from his flesh just as his spirit shook free of its mortal coil. The jedi master died before the sith lord could be fully born.

Tossing her mane, she gave a small sigh as the bloodied blade slipped from her fingers before landing by his body.

Padmé departed to the sanctuary of her ship without ever looking back.


End file.
